


Stunts and First Kisses

by pavlovely



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavlovely/pseuds/pavlovely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz needs to feel connected to someone. Enter Patrick, who is still trying to understand Pete and his antics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stunts and First Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [According To Your Heart (It's Our Time Now)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867289) by [fanatic_by_definition](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanatic_by_definition/pseuds/fanatic_by_definition). 



           Patrick couldn't _fucking_ believe the kind of stunt Pete had pulled during their show that night. Well, actually, he could. It's Pete Wentz for Christ sake. Everyone knew he did these things on impulse. Patrick tells himself that's all it was. He's just trying to get over Ashlee. And, hell, if Patrick could be of any assistance to Pete's feeling better, he was always more than compliant. Besides, looking over the events of the day, it hadn't been so bad; in fact, it was radically the opposite.

 _Nope_ , Patrick thought to himself. _No, no, no_. _Just getting over Ashlee_. He's helping a friend through a hard time, is all. He couldn't think about the way Pete had woken up every day of tour so far without fail, with dark, puffy eyes and then curl up next to Patrick on the couch. No words were spoken, but no doubt, lyrics reflecting the past nights' episodes would make their way to Patrick eventually (whether scribbled on napkins and slipped into the morning paper for Patrick to stumble upon, or Pete's latest and new favorite tactic; taping his words to the bathroom mirror for Patrick to glance at while brushing his teeth) and then Patrick would create the perfect melody to accompany them. That's just how they worked. They fit like puzzle pieces put together on a rainy day.

          This day, though, was different. Pete didn't leave his bunk. It was also the day after their last fight. Pete was all low in self-pity of-fucking-course and looking back, Patrick was probably too hard on him. He was really frustrated. Pete had kept telling him how he felt like shit (somewhat indirectly), presumably about the divorce and Ashlee and Patrick was just so fucking mad. Pete would send these mixed signals, and boy, were they mixed. Jesus, he would even hang all over Patrick while they were performing. But that's just Pete, he had tried to keep telling himself, he does these things with everyone. It's just how he works. Pete needs to feel connected to someone. Needs reassurance. And he had no clue why Pete had deemed Patrick worthy of this role, but he had made it his goal from then on to understand. Besides, it's not exactly as though he's complaining.

 _Shit_. Okay, he did _not_ just think that. He was helping out a friend. His best friend. Pete needed him and he was there. The end. Fucking period. Except Patrick knew it was much more than that. He always had a soft spot for Pete and his antics. It wasn't just because he looked at Patrick like he was the most important thing on this Earth, either. Though, God, did that look make his heart flutter. But more than that, Pete genuinely got it. He understood when Patrick was feeling self-conscious, etc. and he always knew what to say to cheer him up. Yes, he would sometimes go overboard, but Patrick knew him well enough to know that it's all out of good intention. Fuck, even from the day they met when Pete got his first glance at Patrick, who was wearing shorts and an argyle sweater, he had made a point to tell him they were made for each other. Patrick pretended not to blush. Some audition.

 

_Patrick executed his last note with as much poise as he could muster with Pete and Joe looking at him so intently._

_"So, uh, I told you I'm really not a singer but you asked so there. It's not that great, I know but-" he was fiddling with his hands, head down, but before he could finish what he was about to say, Pete had gotten off the couch and made his way over to wrap his arms around Patrick, swaying him ever so slightly._

_When he pulled back, he looked at him in earnest and said, "You sing like a fucking angel, do you know that? You totally have to be our lead singer. Please."_

_Patrick was so flushed, but he got the feeling Pete wasn't really asking a question. He was now the new frontman of their at-the-time "gag band."_

 

          From there, they just. Clicked. They knew where each other were going with their jokes before they even got to the punchline. They opened up to each other. _What a Catch_ was written and left in Patrick's mailbox on thin parchment. Patrick had been there for him countless nights, when Pete would call him at 3 am and ask for him to sing him to sleep.

          They were there for each other without a second of hesitation. Patrick would rub Pete's back and let him ramble on about life, and Pete loved it when Patrick talked about music. He loved the passion he saw on Patrick's face when he explained to him a new melody he thought up. Pete always told him he was a musical genius. They just never thought much of it, Patrick supposed. They never needed to. They were Pete and Patrick, and they both knew that nothing else mattered. Even through touring and separate long-term relationships, nothing could touch them. They were a whole other universe.

          Now, that's not to say there weren't any fights. Historically, Pete would get upset at Patrick for putting himself down and Patrick hated it when Pete disappeared without any contact. It was a semi-expected occurrence which almost always resulted in both of them sulking around until they couldn't take it anymore, which, in all fairness, never took long.

          And now this time, Patrick was knocking on the door to the bunks. He waited patiently, strained to hear heavy footsteps, and then suddenly a disgruntled Pete was standing before him, hair gone askew and dark circles (even darker than usual) chiseled under his dark brown eyes. A wave of guilt hit Patrick as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had caused this. And now he had to fix it.

          "I uh- Listen, I," Patrick exhaled as he struggled for the right words. He was being so careful. "Can we talk?" he finally articulated.

          Pete nodded ever so slightly, looking down at his shoes, and then went to take his seat on the couch. Patrick followed in kind, at first very hesitant. He made sure at least an inch was between them, although on any normal day, they would have been about an inch closer than that. Pete still hadn't met his eyes.

          "Pete," Patrick sighed. "Pete, I didn't mean to snap at you. I know things have been so hard with the divorce and Bronx. And I'm trying so fucking hard to help, and-I don't even know what I'm saying at this point. I just. I shouldn't have snapped. I know it couldn't have helped you, and I always want to help you. That's really all I want and-"

          Pete finally met his gaze, noticing the sincerity in Patrick's words and moved closer so that he was leaning firmly into Patrick's side. "'S okay, Trick, really," he said, nuzzling into his neck, his cold nose digging into Patrick's shoulder. Patrick took a shuttered breathe and had to purposefully remind himself to breathe. He sounded so fucking broken and Patrick, he just couldn't.

          "No, no it's not," he insisted, settling his arms around Pete, and pulling him even closer. He shook his head of blonde hair as he placed his chin gently and neatly on top of Pete's black and red hair. "I'm your best friend. I shouldn't-"

          His words fell short as Pete squeezed him even tighter. "No, I shouldn't be so miserable all the time. I understand why you got upset."

          "Pete, you and I both know you can't help it. It's okay. I'm always going to be here to care for and support you," Patrick stated, before adding "for as long as you need me that will always stand true."

          Then Pete pulled out of Patrick's grasp (much to Patrick's distaste) just enough to gaze into his beautiful blue eyes. He looked so serious, and God, Patrick's heart was beating so fast. He placed a hand to the curve of Patrick's jaw, deliberately holding his eyes with his own. "I always need you," he said, and when Patrick didn't resist, he dropped his gaze quickly to his lips, and then back up. Patrick is sure Pete can feel his heart bursting out of his chest now.

          Suddenly Pete is leaning even closer, their noses practically touching now, and Patrick can actually feel Pete's breath against his mouth and he's so overcome with want. He _needs_ so badly to-

          "Can I?" Pete asked, his voice faltering. It's then that Patrick realized he's not the only one nervous. They'd never had a real proper kiss before, and Patrick wasn't prepared. But then again, he didn't think anything would be able to prepare him to kiss his fucking best friend who he's been in love with for the past 7 years full on the mouth, so what does he have to lose?

          "Y-yes," Patrick breathed out, looking at Pete, whose lips were curved in the tiniest yet most expressive smile.

          And then Pete used his soft hold on Patrick's jaw to his advantage, closing the rest of the gap between them, and holy shit, Patrick was right. He was overwhelmed with so much sensation that it took a second to start kissing Pete back. But when he did- _fuck_ , when he did everything else around them disappeared and they were the only thing that mattered. _This is how it should be always_ , Patrick thought as his hands made their way to Pete's sides, and then before he knew it his mouth was opening wider beneath his, allowing Pete's tongue to prod at Patrick's beautiful mouth. He shivered underneath the hot touch. They allowed themselves this time to explore the parts of each other that they hadn't quite shared until now.

 _Oh, fuck_ , and then Patrick was suddenly acutely aware of Pete's slightly calloused thumb, which was now carefully stroking his cheek, just by the corner of his mouth. It said everything that the lyrics and music couldn't. Patrick realized he was starting to grow hard, but Pete's touch was so fucking addictive and he's wanted (or more accurately, he's needed) this since he was 16 and he just-fuck he needs to stop before he full out _grinds_ onto Pete.

          But before he could even entertain the notion of pulling apart, Pete was humming against Patrick's mouth, and Patrick was responding with everything he had.

          When they finally broke away (much to their disappointment), Pete placed their foreheads together, hands spread wide in Patrick's soft hair. His lips turned upright in a genuine grin.

          "I should make a point to kiss the corner of your mouth during shows more often."

          "Asshole," Patrick shook his head slightly, but there was a smile evident in his voice. He could get used to this.


End file.
